All the cool kids are moving out west. In October, the great forests of New England lost Nathaniel to the allures of bigger trees and taller mountains. He wanted to drive cross-country before his move, and I figured I should tag along to chaperone. We saw friends in cities, bombed across the midwest, crawled around the red earth of Arches, hiked down the Grand Canyon, found peace in Death Valley, escaped into the wilds of Yosemite National Park, and watched the snow fall at Crater Lake. I think tagging along was the right decision.

As you probably saw, I rode from Salt Lake City to Denver this past summer with Dan Adams and David Parker. I finally got around to cleaning up the DOT maps from Utah and Colorado in Illustrator so I could map the trip out. Check it out!

Our second annual fall night hike (See photos from the first here) took place on the AT/LT through the Lye Brook Wilderness in Vermont. We hiked three days on a loop to Stratton Mountain via Bourn Pond through some threatening rain (no rain guarantee!) and flooded trails. I took along my T4, which has the benefit of being lightweight but admittedly struggles in low light. But between Katz and I splitting photographer duties, we grabbed a few good shots.

In 2013, I made a goal to ride D2R2 at the end of the summer. It was a big decision for me; D2R2 is the Deerfield Dirt Road Randonnee and is often cited as one of the great American rides. It is put on as a charity ride by the Franklin Land Trust and the 180k version is considered to be one of the hardest in America. By the end of the day, you will have ridden 110 miles over 14,000 feet of elevation gain on almost all gravel roads. Those numbers may not mean much to those who don’t ride regularly, but 110 miles is hard, doing that on gravel is harder, throw in 14,000ft and you are looking at a monster of a ride. To put it in perspective, when I rode over the Rocky Mountains this past summer, the day I rode over Trail Ridge Road, the distance from Grand Lake to Estes Park (the two towns on either side of the range) was 50 miles and 6,500 feet of elevation, and that kicked my ass. D2R2 would be like riding over the Rockies, then turning around and riding over them again. It is the equivalent to a running a marathon in the cycling world.

Roosevelt is a tiny stop-over town in the heart of Utah’s oil fields. Trucks come lumbering through from Duschene or Vernal almost every 60 seconds, stopping rarely for a coffee or some gas. There wasn’t much to do for two days while Dadams recovered besides watching Fast and Furious 6, so Parker and I hung out at the hotel pool, and spent a while at the best place in town - Marion’s Variety – for sandwiches and amazing ice cream shakes. We chatted with the waitresses and the owner for a while, learned a bit about the town, and when we leaving, the owner told us to not worry about the bill and to just “have a safe ride.” The kindness in this part of the country is nothing like the temperament out East. Niceness is truth out here; it’s quieter, less showy than the extreme politeness of the Southeast and more freely given than the cold North. It is humble, honest, and from the heart. It is a pleasant reminder of humanity’s better half.

“Guys, I don’t think I am going to make it.” When you hear something like that from a guy like Dadams, you know he is hurting. Parker and I were on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere, Utah, watching Dadams’ slow decent into fever and sickness. “Alright, lets flag down a truck,” said Parker, with a mix of concern and confidence. Parker and Dadams had already been through the gauntlet; four weeks on the road and they were already seasoned bike tourers. A truck with a really nice young couple returning from bow-hunting turkeys picked us up and dropped us off in the nearest town, 10 miles down the road. We then hitched again 40 miles to the next town, Roosevelt, UT, where Dadams crashed and recovered in the hotel for the next two days.

Life on the road is a very different kind of existence. Some problems become more acute, but most of life’s problems simply disappear; replaced with a beautiful string of endless change and diverse experiences. Doing a bike tour isn’t much different than a long hiking trip or a road trip - your life’s hierarchy is simply reevaluated, restructured, and reordered. It is a spectacular kind of lifestyle.

One year later, one more handmade bike. After my 3BMC Road was taken out of commission last year, I knew I needed a replacement frame for 2014. I also knew I wanted to try my hand at framebuilding again. So, when the snow started to fall and the cold New England winter set in, I holed myself up in Artisan’s Asylum in Somerville with Paul Carson and set out to make some more frames for myself.

As I find myself more excited about long distance adventure rides and less about racing, I wanted to design something that I could take anywhere, on any conditions, for any amount of time. On top of that, at the end of May, I am embarking on a two week bike tour from Salt Lake City to Denver with two close friends. We are going up and over the Wasatch Range, across the Colorado Plateau, over the Rocky Mountains, and a final summit of Mount Evans for a total of 600 miles and over 40,000 feet of climbing. At a minimum, it is going to be an adventure, and I needed a bike that was up to the task.